First kisses and childish weddings
by i.eat.rich.kids
Summary: "Why do people get married?" A reminiscing on Eren and Armin's first kiss. A short oneshot. Fluff.


First kisses and childish weddings.

Sometimes during dinner, some members of the 104th trainee squad would talk about their past, or their families and friends, they would make jokes and tell embarrassing stories about themselves or each other. It was often a gentle reminder that they were still teenagers and that it was okay to loosen up once in a while.

Tonight the conversation somehow became about first kisses.

"...And then he tried to use his tongue and I was too grossed out so I ended up pushing him to the ground and I ran away as fast as I could!" Sasha said as she made a disgusted face. The group around her laughed heartily at her exaggerated gesture.

"At least you had a first kiss, I bet Connie here has never had a girl come near to him before!" Jean poked Connie who scoffed back at him. Everyone seemed to be enjoying these tales, and Jean was scanning the tables for someone else to tease.  
"What about you, Armin?" Jean said loudly across to where Armin was sitting, who froze as he about to eat his slice of ham. "Did you even have your first kiss yet?" Jean teased.  
Armin awkwardly laughed and quickly replied. "Ah you got me there, Jean. No, I haven't."  
Mikasa who was sitting right next to him spoke to herself quietly. "I thought you said your first kiss was Eren..." Unfortunately she said it loud enough for the others around her to hear. She noticed what she did and turned to apologize to Armin but it was too late.  
"What?!" Jean and others in their group howled with laughter at the thought.  
Both Eren's and Armin's faces turned to a bright shade of pink as they were yelling over each other trying to explain it to the others.  
"It was a really long time ago!"  
"That kiss probably doesn't even count as a real kiss!"  
When the others calmed down they were prying both Eren and Armin for the story behind the alleged kiss.  
Armin, still embarrassed, hung his head low and mumbled. "It was childish stuff, really. It doesn't even count."  
Eren was fuming at all of the giggling but he didn't want to get in another squabble with Jean, instead he just glared at everyone instead. Mikasa turned to Eren to apologize about mentioning the kiss. It didn't appear that he was angry with her, though.

"Oh please tell us, Armin. If it really was childish stuff then you have to tell us about it, so we could understand." Sasha asked in between giggles as she walked over to where Armin was sitting.  
Armin looked up at her with his big eyes. "I really don't remember much of it, I swear. I was really young..."

* * *

It was wintertime in Shiganshina District and a young, 6 year old Eren was helping his mother build a fire to warm up their home.

"Mama, when is dad gonna come home?" Eren asked his mother.

She looked down at her son and gave him a gentle smile. "Ah, he just went to go get us a treat at the bakery."  
Eren's eyes widened at the thought. He wondered what his father would bring home. Sweets were rare these days, and whenever his father would bring home sweets, things were always bright.

A few minutes passed and his father walked in through the door and had white flakes in his hair. "It started snowing just now." He held something wrapped in a cloth, handed it over to his wife and gently kissed her cheek. "Happy anniversary, dear."

Carla untied the cloth. Inside was a small pound cake with a light sugary glaze coating it. She smiled and turned to Eren who was about ready to devour the entire thing all by himself.

The family sat at the table and cut the cake amongst themselves. Then in the middle of devouring his piece, Eren suddenly remembered something his father said.  
"Dad, what's an anniversary?" He said with his mouth full of the pound cake, the crumbs falling all over his shirt. The question caught his parents slightly off guard. "Hm? Well it's a day once a year where your mother and I celebrate us getting married."  
"Why do people get married?" He turned to his mother.

Carla smiled at Eren's innocent question. "Well, people who get married love each other. They stay together in good times and in bad times, too. And they like being around each other."

Eren took another bite of his cake and looked like he was digesting what his mother said along with the cake and he smiled at a thought he had.

"I think that's enough cake for us, Eren. Why don't you go bring Armin so we can share with him." Carla wrapped what was left of the pound cake up in the cloth and set it on the kitchen counter for later.

Eren didn't like that he had to share his cake, but since it was Armin he shared it with, it was okay. He quickly got up from the table and grabbed his coat and red scarf that was hanging on a nail by the doorway, then put on his shoes and sprinted out the door before his mother could fetch him a hat or anything else to keep him warm.

He huffed and puffed little clouds of his breath as he ran and he almost collided with other people that were walking. He halted to a stop when he saw a familiar blonde boy sitting on the corner of the street with his nose buried in a book.

"Armin!" Eren called out to his friend. Armin looked up at Eren and smiled brightly.

It looked as though he was sitting there for a long time because his cheeks were rosy and he was sniffling. Armin was unusually small for his age and he got lost in his bundled up winter clothes. He placed a bookmark in his book, closed it and stood up with Eren's help.

"Hi Eren."  
"Armin, what are you doing out here. It's so cold!"

"I like the snow."

Eren frowned. "You'll get sick. Oh! Come, we have cake!" He grabbed Armin's wrist and ran back to his house as fast as his 6 year old legs could carry him. Once they reached the house, Carla was at the door waiting for them.

"Hello, Armin. Sorry for Eren dragging you all the way out here."

"No, it's okay. Thank you for inviting me."

Both boys took off their wet, snow-covered shoes and went to sit at the kitchen table. Carla unwrapped the cloth over the cake and cut a slice for Armin. He thanked her and proceeded to delicately eat it, savoring the saccharine-filled treat.

"It's anniversary cake. Is it good?" Eren leaned towards Armin.

"Mmhmm." Armin smiled. Eren blushed a little and smiled back at him.

Eren cleared his throat to get his mothers attention. "Mama, I've decided that I want to make Armin my wife." He stated in a matter-of-fact voice. Armin just stared at Eren. Eren's mother was baffled. She giggled a bit, regained her composure and sat down next to Eren.

"Now why is that?" She patted his messy hair.

"Because I love him. And you said that people who love each other get married."

"Yes, well..." She hesitated.

Eren looked at Armin who didn't say a word. "Armin, you love me, right?"

Armin pondered for a short time. "Yeah, mmhmm."

Then Eren looked back at his mother. "See? We'll get married. Oh, but right now we're gonna go play in the snow, okay?" Eren stood up and didn't wait for Armin to finish his cake before grabbing his hand and taking him to go outside.

The boys sat under a large tree making snow angels. Its wide, bare branches hovering protectively over them as they played. When they took a break, they sat leaning against the tree holding hands in the cold.

"Eren." Armin whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Did you really mean that? The stuff about making me your wife?"

"Well yeah, I wouldn't lie to you, Armin!" Eren sat up and looked at his friend in the face.

"But I mean, wouldn't we have to...kiss? That's what married people do." Little Armin's genuine question rolled around in Eren's head a bit.  
"Well yeah, you're right."

They both sat in silence momentarily. Watching the snow falling endlessly.

"Ere-" Armin was cut off by Eren's lips briefly pressing to his. All the heat rushed to his face and he had his mouth open but not a word came out.

Even Eren blushed and when he spoke he tripped over his words. "L-let's go home."

Armin silently nodded.

As they walked silently in the cold, the boys tightly held each others hands.


End file.
